


Slice

by syriala



Series: Inktober for Writers 2018 [31]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blood Magic, Blood and Injury, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-10 23:36:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16464461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syriala/pseuds/syriala
Summary: Blood magic was dangerous magic, but Stiles’ teacher was one of the best, and Stiles wasn’t too worried that it wouldn’t work out. It would cost him, dearly even if his teacher was to be believed, but Stiles had learned all about the sacrifices for this and he couldn’t care less.





	Slice

Stiles had never really explained what he had learned in the year he had been gone, since his teacher had sworn him to secrecy and no one had been interested enough anyway.

But now, with Peter on the ground, bleeding out faster than even his werewolf healing could counter act, Stiles knew the time of secrets was over. He had promised his teacher to only ever use his newly learned abilities for his family, for the people he loved most in this world, and Stiles had readily agreed.

There weren’t a lot of people he would make this sacrifice for anyway. But Peter was most definitely one of them, and Stiles would not allow him to die.

So instead of running away like the others had done, chasing after the bad guy and leaving Peter behind to die, Stiles rushed up to Peter’s side, dropping down to his knees.

The damage was even worse up close, his whole chest ripped open, and Stiles suppressed the urge to gag at the sight.

“Go,” Peter spit out, barely understandable with all the blood he was choking on, but Stiles shook his head.

“Never. I’m never going to leave you.”

It was a promise he had made with himself before he had fallen in love with Peter, and he sure as hell wouldn’t break it now. Peter didn’t deserve to be left alone again ever again.

Peter blindly reached out for him, grabbing his arm with a surprisingly strong grip and Stiles smoothed his hair back. He would happily slice himself apart to save Peter, and it was a good thing too, because Stiles would have to do just that to heal him.

“Give me your claws,” Stiles demanded, shaking Peter’s hand, glad that Peter was still coherent enough to flick his claws out.

“Stiles,” Peter choked out, question clear in his eyes, and Stiles leaned down to kiss him.

“You better not be mad at me, afterwards,” Stiles mumbled and then used Peter’s claws to slice his arm open, from wrist to elbow.

Stiles repeated the process with his left arm as well, going even deeper there, before he pressed Peter’s claws into his chest, right above his heart.

Blood magic was dangerous magic, but Stiles’ teacher was one of the best, and Stiles wasn’t too worried that it wouldn’t work out. It would cost him, dearly even if his teacher was to be believed, but Stiles had learned all about the sacrifices for this and he couldn’t care less.

As long as Peter survived this, he would gladly be bound to him forever.

Stiles leaned forward, claws in his chest slightly shifting, but he didn’t even register the pain. He was too busy reciting the proper spell, too busy to remember all the words to let a little bit of pain stop him.

Peter was watching him with wide eyes, the wolf clearly knew more about blood magic than Stiles had thought, but Stiles didn’t let it stop him.

He shoved his hand into Peter’s chest, grabbing his heart, right as he forced Peter’s hand into his own chest, mirroring his grip and almost yelling the last few lines of the spell.

Peter gasped when the connection was established, whimpered when his healing took the strength it needed to heal him from Stiles, and groaned when his flesh started to knit itself back together.

Stiles could feel how his lifeforce left him, could feel just how much Peter needed to take from him to heal himself, but he wasn’t too worried.

This magic was dangerous for humans, performed on humans, but Stiles and Peter were neither. Stiles was a spark, his magic endless and stronger than ever seen before, and Peter was a werewolf. They would both survive this, eternally bound together afterwards.

The bond was the reason his teacher had made him promise to only ever use this kind of magic for people Stiles loved, because it was eternal and couldn’t be reversed. They would forever be bound together, feeling the other, unable to be too far apart from one another, but Stiles had never worried too much about that.

He knew he was Peter’s mate, knew that Peter already wouldn’t leave him, and it only felt right to have a bond of his own to Peter.

“What did you do?” Peter asked once his chest had knitted so far together that he could properly speak again, and Stiles gave him a shaky smile.

“Saved your life,” he gave back, unsteady and weak as long as Peter was draining his strength from him.

“This is the most dangerous kind of magic,” Peter said, voice awed, because of course he knew that only a handful of people were able to perform this ritual.

“For the people I love the most,” Stiles whispered back, slumping forward and not fighting Peter when he slowly and carefully extracted his hand out of Stiles’ chest.

“You could have died,” Peter gently admonished him, and Stiles leaned against him when Peter took his hand out of his chest as well.

“You would have,” he gave back.

“You’re going to properly explain the side effects once you’re healed,” Peter said, not leaving room for argument and Stiles nodded.

It wouldn’t take long anyway, he could already feel the bond take root, the feedback loop healing him in the process as well.

“I love you,” Stiles said, because that was the only thing that was important right now.

“I love you, too, sweetheart,” Peter said as well, pulling Stiles even closer. “Even if you are too reckless.”

“Only for you,” Stiles mumbled, sleepy now that the worst was over, and he was sure Peter wouldn’t die on him.

“Same, darling,” Peter promised and smoothly lifted Stiles up as he stood.

Stiles could feel himself fall asleep, but he wasn’t too worried about that. He was in the arms of his mate, his everything, and nothing could happen to him there. Stiles’ fell asleep to Peter’s strong heartbeat.


End file.
